


Perfect

by storiesinthedark



Series: Fics from Fandoms of Long Ago [8]
Category: Rent - Larson
Genre: Angst, Family Drama, Gen, Grandparents & Grandchildren, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-04
Updated: 2007-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-23 13:24:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17684312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesinthedark/pseuds/storiesinthedark
Summary: Collins has to deal with his lovely family...on a very special day...





	Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for rentficchallenge on LiveJournal. 
> 
> Goodness, my early works were so angsty...

It’s 10 am and Collins is awake. Now, it’s unusual for him to be awake, but the excitement that lingers in the distance has woken him and he excitedly runs down the stairs. He doesn’t put on any clothes, nor does he bother with making himself look presentable. He just stumbles down the stairs and into the kitchen.  
  
His mother is putting away groceries. Today, she has an overload of groceries, but it is a special occasion. She looks at Collins and her expression is one of surprise and confusion. “What are you doing up?” She asks him looking at him in his state of half-sleep excitedness.  
  
“Don’t know.” He responds and a big smile stretches across his face. He knows what all the extra food is for and he can not wait until later.   
  
“Well,” She continues the conversation, “Why don’t you put on a coat and some shoes and go out and bring in the rest of the groceries…”  
  
Collins nods in agreement and travels out in the arctic chill of this New York morning and trudges back in with the last two bags that his mother had left out of the front porch. The cold doesn’t bother him, yet he wishes that he still had stayed in bed where it was nice and warm.   
  
He returns and his mother is making some concoction on the stove. It smells like a tomato sauce of some sort and Collins knows that he will enjoy it once it is finished. Before his mother leaves the house, to go work for the few hours she can before the big event, she gives him some instructions. 1. He is to keep an eye on the sauce that is on the stove. 2. He is to wash the dishes in the sink. 3. He is to put some water on to boil at around 11:30 so when she comes home she can cook. 4. He is to make sure his room is somewhat clean.   
  
They are fairly easy tasks. Or at least Collins thinks they are and he doesn’t mind doing them. However, his mother has forgotten to take into consideration one key factor in Collins’ tasks…his Great-Grandmother who has been living with him and his mother for the last eight years.   
  
He begins the tasks by washing the dishes. It doesn’t take him long and soon he finishes. He’s getting ready to take a shower when he hears a call of his name. “Tommy…” the voice is weak and aged and Collins recognizes it quickly.   
  
“Yes.” He responds in slight irritation. He now knows that everything he planned will be delayed.   
  
“This is the nosiest house.” She is eighty-six and can barely walk anymore, yet his great-grandmother insists on sitting in a chair at the dining room table and to top things off she refuses to use her cane as the doctor instructed.   
  
He sighs and rolls his eyes and attempts to continue with his plans, but to no avail. She soon interrupts him once again. “Does that little café up the street have those egg sandwiches?”   
  
“I don’t know” He responds heading for the stairs. He’s not a bad kid; he’s just trying to get everything ready for the event.   
  
“Can you go get me one?”   
  
“Does it have to be right now? I’m not dressed and it’s cold out there.”  
  
“I’m not dressed either.”  
  
“But, you don’t have to go outside.” He cringes at the thought of having to walk five blocks to get her a sandwich. So, he doesn’t. He walks up the stairs to his room and she takes a seat at the table. It’s a typical morning in the house.   
  
Collins has started to straighten his room when he hears a crash come from the kitchen. He rushes down the stairs to find none other than his little Great-Grandmother pulling dishes from the cabinet, nearly breaking what they have left in dishes.   
  
“What are you doing?” He asks. He thinks he sounds like his mother but doesn’t take the time to dwell on this thought. He’s more concerned what she is trying to do.   
  
“I’m making eggs.” She cracks the egg that she has in her hand on the side of the dish and huffs and puffs because she is now out of breath.   
  
“Let me do it.” He says, moving her out of the way. “Do you want one or two?”  
  
“Make it two.” She wanders over to another cabinet and begins searching for something. Collins ignores her and continues to make her the scrambled eggs that she has started.   
  
It’s 11 am and he is standing at a stove making eggs that he doesn’t even get to eat. “Why don’t you go sit at the table?” He suggests. “I’ll bring the eggs to you.”   
  
“Fine.” She responds, but she doesn’t move. She waits and then the toaster pops. Collins is confused. He continues working on the eggs and glancing at her from the corner of his eye.   
  
“What are you doing?” He once again sounds like his mother.   
  
“Getting my toast out.” She says as she sticks a knife in the toaster and begins breathing heavy again.   
  
He shakes his head. “Let me do it.” He moves out of the way again, letting the eggs cook on the stove by themselves. He removes the toast quickly and puts it on a plate. “You’re gonna burn the house down doin that.”   
  
She doesn’t respond but searches around in the kitchen for something else. Collins rolls his eyes and goes back to the eggs, which are almost finished. He quickly finished frying the eggs and threw them onto a plate. There was another crash. “What are you doing?”   
  
“I want tea.” She pulled a cup out of the sink, threw a spoon and tea bag into the cup. It was the grossest thing Collins had seen. The cup was the same one he had just scrambled the eggs in, and she wanted tea out of it. He felt a little sick, but she continued to stand there giving him no chance to try and give her a new cup. He boiled some water, poured it into what he considered the most unhygienic cup ever, put some sugar in and took it into the dining room table. She followed close behind and soon took her place at the table.  
  
“I’m taking a shower.” He said and he began to walk up the stairs.   
  
“Thank you.” She responded.   
  
He headed into the bathroom and began the water for a shower. He could hear her. Crash, crash, went the plates in the kitchen. He ignored it. He climbed into the shower and began to scrub. He let the water run over his body, and soon he could feel the tears run down his face.   
  
‘I hate her.’ He thought. ‘This is my day. My birthday and she treats me like this. I know she’s old…but this is my day. She could have some consideration for others…’ His thoughts continued in this manner.   
  
“Tommy!” She heard her call his name. He was still in the shower. “Get me the paper!”  
  
“When I get out…”He screamed so he could hear her.   
  
There was no response. He heard the door open. She didn’t listen, she wanted the paper and she didn’t want to wait. She was making his life miserable and he couldn’t do anything. His mother knew his Great-Grandmother was this way, but she couldn’t do anything about it.   
  
He sat on the floor of the bathtub, letting the water run over his back and head. He breathed deep. He loved her, he had too, but he wished she would be considerate of his feelings every once in a while.   
  
He got out of the shower and it was about noon. His mother wasn’t home and his Great-Grandmother was still demanding the paper and the mail that he knew wouldn’t come for another four hours.   
  
It was the perfect birthday. The perfect 18th birthday that was spent taking care of his Great-Grandmother and resenting her every move. 


End file.
